University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

An Area before the Palace.
FAULKNER and MENTZEL,
MENTZEL.
That human wickedness to such a pitch
Can rise, present and future times must wonder!
Vindictive Seyfert! Monster of the age!
Is a disgrace to nature and our country.
He has entail'd dishonour on his name;
His house is cancel'd from nobility;
And he, weak compensation for his guilt,
This morn in private is to suffer death,
That his fell breath mayn't taint the atmosphere,
When the heroic suff'rers shall approach.

FAULKNER.
How just are thy awards, O Providence!
To let the vicious run their course of pride,
And in their full career to check, when least
They dread the interposing hand of Heav'n!

Enter Guards, SEYFERT, BURMAN, and Chaplain to the Prison.
MENTZEL.
But the door opens; and the guard comes forth
To range around the scaffold—what despair
And complicated terror in his look.

FAULKNER.
We now shall see how vice can meet its end.
That done we'll haste without the city gate
To view th'investiture, in all its pomp,
Of Count Alberti for the golden fleece,
And fair Constantia for Teresa's order;
The highest tribute e'er was paid to virtue.

MENTZEL.
And just, since virtue is above all human titles.

SEYFERT.
Oh, faithful Burman, thou in me behold'st
Of what uncertain tenure's human life,
When not conducted by the rules of virtue!
Instead of foll'wing policy's vile tracks,
Whose wicked dictates teach men to be false,
To spurn at feelings of our fellow creatures,
As a mean weakness, quite beneath a statesman.
Thus oft inhumanly I've dealt by others,
For which I'm doom'd to punishment condign;
Nor shall I startle from the sword, but wish
Its friendly blow, to put an end to pain,
Rather than live the scorn, the hate of all,
And daily undergo new infamy.
Though in this world—no mercy I desire,
'Tis th'utmost stretch of daring expectation
For crimes like mine to hope it in the next.

CHAPLAIN.
Forbear rash man, nor dare to circumscribe
Th'almighty will—

SEYFERT.
I am prepar'd [To Burman.]
—proceed—
Accept this ring in token of thy truth,
And see thy master in his coffin laid.

[Exeunt Burman, Seyfert, &c.

SCENE II.

One of the Court-Yards of the Imperial Palace.
RODOLPHO and EVERARD.
RODOLPHO.
How stupenduous are the ways of Heaven!
Was ever change so happy, so deserv'd
And glorious!—Believe me, Sir, my heart
Exults!—Amazement mix'd with joy elates
My raptur'd soul! my much lov'd rescu'd friend!
I feel his transports, and I share his honours.

EVERARD.
This wond'rous revolution has impress'd
Upon my mind a sense of Providence
More strong than ever, and my thoughts are heighten'd
To a more elevated pitch—I feel
A glow of fervour in my conscious mind,
From bright revealing truth! amazing all!
But heav'nly power extends its gracious arm
Beyond the narrow reach of mortal sight,
And often is as wonderful as good!—
The virtuous, the distress'd, shou'd ne'er despair,
And fair Constantia is a glorious proof.

RODOLPHO.
The noblest in the regist'ry of years,
Her love and virtue are without a rival
In Hebrew annals, or in Grecian tales,
Nor can the Roman records boast her equal.

EVERARD.
How much it to your monarch's praise redounds,
A glorious lesson to all patriot kings,
Thus to concession make for injur'd worth,
And retribution for the wrongs it suffer'd.

RODOLPHO.
The mandate's given, that they procession make
Thro' the great street that to the palace leads,
With ev'ry honour that's to sov'reigns paid;
And make the city's rampart shake around.

EVERARD.
But here comes Clermont, the brave Gallic youth,
Noble Alberti rescu'd from the cave.—
That happiness I long foretold you, Sir,
Is come to pass—I now congratulate
Your safe return to light and liberty!

Enter CLERMONT.
CLERMONT.
O most humane and gen'rous Sir, words are
Too weak t'express my grateful, fervent thanks
For your kind aid—and friendly influence—
Bless'd be the name of Britain—whose fam'd sons
Thus feel for mis'ry, and abhor oppression!

EVERARD.
Sure, from the joy strong painted on thy face,
The exiles are receiv'd with loud acclaims.

CLERMONT.
My gladden'd eyes with friendly tears o'erflow'd,
On seeing of such universal joy.
Each house with richest tapestry is hung,
And ev'ry window throng'd with crowding looks,
In joyful expectation of their coming.—
While jostling multitudes through streets below,
Ask of each other, have they yet appear'd?
How looks Constantia?—Is Alberti chang'd?
But none have time to give a gentle answer,
So eager rush all forward to behold them.

RODOLPHO,
This narrative's a cordial to my soul.

CLERMONT.
The old, the young, congratulate each other
With thousand blessings on th'Emperor's name,
For having punish'd such a fiend as Seyfert,
And nobly rescu'd such heroic virtue!
In short, on ev'ry side, from ev'ry tongue,
Constantia and Alberti are the theme!—
[A gun.
Hark! that's the signal of their march begun,
Let's haste to view, and join them as they come.

SCENE III.

The Great Street of Vienna.
A grand Procession; Flowers are strew'd by the People.—Shouts frequently heard, with ringing of Bells and firing of Cannon. —An Ode of rejoicing—which follows here.

CHORUS.

At the Close of the Procession, enter ALBERTI and CONSTANTIA.
ALBERTI.
Am I once more within Vienna's walls,
The fav'rite scene of all my youthful years?
And what is more, my dear Constantia here?

CONSTANTIA.
Oh, my Alberti, my fond heart is full!
I can't find words—to speak my raptur'd soul!
T'encrease our joy—your faithful friends appear.

Enter EVERARD and FAULKNER.
Alberti.
Now, good Everard, let my arms embrace thee
As suits thy station—and the Count Alberti.
Say, worthy friend! did ever mortal meet
So happy a reverse—from so deplor'd a state?

EVERARD.
Never, indeed! nor ever so deserv'd—

ALBERTI.
Behold that angel to herself restor'd:
Was she an inmate for the Cave of Idra?
Let Europe gaze—let kings fall down before her.
Now, gen'rous Everard, recognize that face!
Revere that form where every virtue dwells:
Let Oral tales—and history be dumb!—
Let blushing time destroy his annals now,
And sum up all his boasted list in her.—

EVERARD.
The kindling ardour of thy raptur'd soul
Has fir'd my breast—I see her all perfection;
I see her reap the harvest of her glory.
A thousand triumphs welcome thee to light,
[To Constantia.
Thou matchless wonder, and thou beauteous saint!
Earth's flow'ry honours strew thy virtuous path,
And shouting thousands welcome thee to life!
To friends, to parents, with thy lov'd Alberti!

CONSTANTIA.
To all my heart shall ever glow with thanks.—
'Tis more than recompence for all my wrongs.—
Who, Sir, wou'd grudge to suffer as we've done,
If sure of meeting with such publick praise?
Thy friendship in my breast, engraven deep,
Kind, worthy Everard, shall ever live!

ALBERTI.
Hast thou yet seen the generous Rodolpho,
Whose worth shall to my soul be always dear.

EVERARD.
I have, and am but parted from him now;
He to the court is gone, to learn what lords
Are to conduct you to th'imperial presence.

ALBERTI.
Oh! inexpressive joy! behold, he's here!
With him Lorenzo and Colredo come!

RODOLPHO.
Oh! my Alberti!

ALBERTI.
Rodolpho! best of men.

LORENZO.
Lo, brother, to compleat our ev'ry joy,
I, and Colredo, by the Emperor sent,
Are now to bring and place you 'fore the throne.

COLREDO.
Illustrious Sir, and you most honour'd Lady,
Permit me, e'er I dare like other friends,
T'embrace, and warm congratulations join,
To clear my name from Seyfert's foul reports.
I ne'er spoke of you but with that respect,
[To Constantia.
Which borders more on a religious worship
Than polish'd courtesy to human race.
[To Alberti.
So far from envying thy happy lot,
This consolation for my loss I bore,
That from the rival crowd of her admirers,
Sh'had chos'n a man much worthier than myself.

ALBERTI.
A soul like yours cou'd ne'er seek such revenge,
My heart absolves—and greets a former friend.

CONSTANTIA.
I always knew Colredo's princely honour,
And ne'er cou'd think he'd stoop to acts of baseness.

RODOLPHO.
Shame endless to the name that spread the doubt.

COLREDO.
That a fell villain shou'd such mischief work!
But he's no more! and my resentment dies!

LORENZO.
Let's think not of it—or th'infernal cause;
Give signal to advance—Heralds lead on.

The Song is renew'd without, till the Procession is quite off the Stage: Two Curassiers remain on, who had followed the Procession.
1st CURASSIER.
How diff'rent this return from the late exit
Which brave Alberti from Vienna made,
And felon-like to Idra's Cave was sent.

2d CURASSIER.
The then proud heart of Seyfert now lies low!—
His deeds posterity will tell with horror!
And pour eternal curses on his name.

1st CURASSIER.
While the long pageant to the palace moves,
Let's to the church, where with religious pomp
For this event, thanksgiving's to be sung.

2d CURASSIER.
A worthier cause than for a battle won.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

The Grand Saloon of Audience.
The Emperor on his Throne in the Robes of Sov'reignty, attended by his Courtiers.—ALBERTI and CONSTANTIA kneeling.
EMPEROR.
Arise—Thus for your sufferings I bow.—
All, all, salute them as your sov'reign's friends—
In saving you—how is my glory sav'd!
Had ye died victims of a sentence rash,
What from my name cou'd e'er the stain eraze?
That all the records of succeeding ages,
Must shrink from with the utmost detestation!
But th'interference of all-ruling Heaven
Has snatch'd me from precipitate disgrace,
Which ever must supremacy befal,
That vests with ministerial pow'r a wretch,
Who'd veil with virtuous mask, the worst designs
To favour vengeful or ambitious views.
[Rises from the throne.
From such—Omnipotence protect my throne!
Let me not, seated there, forget I'm man;
To thee amenable for all my judgments:
In that dread day when no distinction's known,
To give man pow'r is but the means of sin,
Unless with wisdom you that pow'r direct,
And shield his breast from passion's anarchy.—
Alberti, thy merit and thy sufferings
Claim from me a due reward—Hence do I
Here appoint thee to act for us with just,
With delegated sway throughout the empire,
And all acknowledge what I now declare him:
Guide of my councils—General of the brave.
—To Constantia.—
While from thy sex thou shalt all honours have,
Mirror of wives—and Heroine of the Cave!